This is going to be a lot of rambling...so, there.
I feel so out of it today. Why is it that the gender identity voices get louder when I already can't think? My girlfriend has been working overnight shifts and I miss her. I miss her I miss her. I don't like sleeping by myself and waking up by myself. And, it isn't me being grumpy, it's me being sad. But, it all comes out the same these days. I've been trying to pay more attention to my body, because I never pay any attention to it. But, now sometimes I think I should have just left it alone. Because now I notice when my body isn't happy. Like, now I know that my body wants more contact with Michele's, and not just in a sexual way. I feel on edge when I haven't had physical contact with someone. I've never noticed this before. Now I know when my body is uncomfortable when before I might have just ignored it. Anyway, this isn't helping my anxiety and at this point I don't think I have the tools to deal with new feelings. This makes me very self-conscious, which makes me feel useless. I suppose that nobody ever gets to be the person they want. All we do is chase after it and work on it and grow from it, blah blah blah. Fine. I'll do that along with everyone else who is doing that. This is probably why I'm at my best when I'm in my own head, and I'm working with my hands. The art zone in my attic is zen for me. And, so is my bike shop in my basement. I love it when people keep me company, and I like when I can be by myself. I just like how I feel when I'm making things. My body stops feeling weird to me, and I can instead feel the sore in my lower back from bending over too long, and I can feel my ankles get tired from standing. I can feel the scratches from tools on my hands, and my skin feels gritty with dirt. That's how I like to feel my body. I have never thought of my body as anything more than a vehicle. I mean, it carries my brain around, and it can lift heavy things and carry stuff, and make stuff and break stuff, and it can fuck. I don't think it looks nice, I don't think it's the right shape, and I wish it was a man's body. But, this is what I have and I don't want to start thinking that it isn't my body or that it is a bad body, but I also don't want to start thinking that it is okay to have this body the way it is. What am I trying to say? I don't know. It all seems like a lot of fucking work. I want to figure out what I want to look like and be and I have to figure out how to do that. And, I have to figure out how to tell people that even though this is what they see, it isn't what it seems and that I want to change it and get ready because I'm going to. I think I'll just wake up tomorrow and it will be different and I won't have to say a word to anyone. And, I'll live happily ever after. Some people do that you know. They just shut their mouths and start changing and it falls into place and the people around them start to notice little changes and then pretty soon, it's been a year and that person looks different and acts different and they feel different. It has to start in some little way, just a tiny bit. I've been trying to find that tiny bit of change. I want something tiny to build from. I think my tiny happened last night, but now I've ruined it because I acknowledged it and what's worse, I told you about it. So, just disregard what I said and find me in a year and then we can talk about it. Okay? Okay. I want to write more later, and I want it to make even less sense than the above post. This is my journal.